It's hard to stop worrying
by Margaret Helstone
Summary: "I don't know, Tobes. It's just strange to see the sun." A week after his coming back from the Darklands, Jim still cannot fully readjust. With more unexpected things happening in Arcadia, the process proves to be even more challenging - although it might've been easier if Claire wasn't acting so awfully indifferent. Takes place between episodes 6 and 7 season 2. Jlaire.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One  
In which absolutely nothing of any importance happens**

* * *

Alright, so maybe he didn't love his stupid alarm that much after all.

Especially when it made him fall off the bed the way it just had.

"Okay, okay, I'm up," he mumbled under his breath as he got up to his feet to turn the devilish thing off and left his room, stretching and yawning in the process. He couldn't help glancing through the window, subconsciously stopping in his tracks to admire the view. The sun was shining brightly, diffused in the morning mist that hovered in the air, wrapping the buildings like a soft, fluffy blanket. The world was drowning in all hues of gold, and honestly, there wasn't a sight more welcomed than this peaceful, quiet image.

Jim Lake Jr smiled widely, inhaling fresh, cold air that was coming through the ajar window frame. A week after he'd come back from the Darklands he still found himself amazed by the very sight of natural light.

He'd been positively sure he would never experience it again.

He shook his head, laughing quietly at his own dilly-dallying and made his way to the bathroom. He took a shower, got dressed, brushed his teeth – and almost choked to death when he looked up at the wall clock, and saw its hands threateningly nearing to six fifty in the morning.

' _How is that even possible?'_ he mused as he stormed out of the bathroom, running in the direction of the kitchen, simultaneously trying to cause as little noise as possible, a task he'd been practising for many years now. _'_ _I couldn't have spent that much time in that bath. Or before that mirror. And certainly not -'_

Oh, right. He'd spent it before the window.

His phone vibrated when Toby texted him to remind about the special packed lunch _Chef Jim_ had promised to prepare for them. The boy shook his head once more, thinking of how much he spoiled his best friend – only to realise that he totally deserved it. For his attention, for his friendship, for his undying support. For everything Toby had done for him only a week ago.

The second alarm on his phone went off, happily announcing it was seven already, making the boy jump in surprise. He thought that he really should work on his focus, or he might as well wave goodbye to both his Trollhunting and school.

Doing his best to keep his thoughts under control, he set off to the fridge, and started his work. He was swift in his actions, chopping, stirring and spicing as if cooking was his main and only job, never interrupted by matters so trivial as fighting his greatest fears, be it a ten foot high black lord of the underworld or school. He was confident of his skills in this field, and nobody could ever tell him otherwise.

It was almost as if he'd never been to the Darklands in the first place.

The dark-haired teenager shivered at the thought that crept into his mind against his earlier resolution, and almost cut his finger as the result. He cursed his inability to get over those silly memories that made his attention scattered, and caused him to run late more often than ever before. He was well aware that he didn't have much time to spare, especially with all the catching up he had to do for Arcadia High.

Cooking itself was a pretty time-consuming task too, especially when one was supposed to prepare a dish as complicated as the one Toby 'the Duke' had asked for – still, Jim was determined to fulfil his friend's dreams and deliver his package of balsamic mushrooms, meatloaf, chunky, sun-dried tomatoes and cardamom all put together in one golden, crispy pancake.

Crispy. That was the key word.

As usual, he placed one serving on a plate, lay the latter on a wooden tray on which a glass of orange juice had already been waiting, and pushed all of it aside, almost ready to bring the food to his mother's bedroom. He only had to put the rest of the portions in the paper bags, and then he'd be done.

Yes, that was it. One for Barbara, one for Toby, one for himself, and…

And one for _Claire_.

Jim's grin widened significantly at the memory of the raven-haired girl who had so unexpectedly – and let's face it, quite accidentally – joined the team he, Toby, Blinky and Argh had created not so many months ago. Never in his life had he thought he would live to the day when he would be on such good terms with her, and he certainly hadn't expected that entire Trollhunting business to be of any help at that – and yet there they were, no longer strangers, but friends. Best friends. More than friends.

The young Trollhunter took the tray in his hands and rushed to his mother's room, humming joyfully as he went, just this once letting his thoughts wander free around Claire and his not entirely definable relationship with her. He still couldn't be absolutely certain about the nature of the connection that linked them, as the terms of _boyfriend_ and _girlfriend_ had never really been spoken between them; yet Jim didn't cease to hope that it was rather because the words were unnecessary than unwanted. They hadn't talked about _dating_ either, but how else should he describe their romantic ride during the Spring Fling? Or their dancing right after? And wasn't her determination to save him enough to let him believe she truly cared for his pathetic, stubborn self?

Not to mention, she'd looked pretty happy when he'd finally got out of the Darklands and kissed her on that rock.

A sound of a bell approached his ears and roused him from the pleasant meditation, mercilessly reminding him of all the time he'd already wasted that morning. He ran down the stairs, grabbed his bag, and with that he was gone.

"Where have you been, Jimbo?" Toby's voice was the first thing he heard after leaving the garage. "I've been waiting here for at least ten minutes. Didn't you want to get to school earlier today?"

"Sorry, Tobes. I've been a little distracted since… Well, since that entire underground episode, and everything just takes so much longer. Plus making those lunches requires quite a lot of time, too. Here," he reached to his bag, grasped one of the packets and threw it to his short companion. "Still warm, or at least it still should be."

Toby sighed in delight, admiring the scent that came from the package.

"We really don't deserve your meals. But please, don't stop making them. Also, we really are late."

"I won't stop." Jim chuckled as he put his helmet on. "And calm down, we still have a few minutes left before the classes start, we can totally make it. With Claire and her staff we'll be there in no time."

Toby raised his eyebrows.

"What? What is it?"

"Well, you do realise Claire isn't here, right? Which means we can as much as dream of magically teleporting ourselves to school and avoid being eaten alive by Miss Janeth when we finally get to that hole of pain and misery, also known as algebra class? We're practically dead, dude!"

"Wait, what?"

The Trollhunter froze for a moment, glaring intensively at his interlocutor, who answered him with a disbelieving look on his side. Was Jim really that oblivious to the world around him?

"Wow, man. You really are distracted," Toby summed up a moment later. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," the taller boy responded impatiently. "But what's going on? Where is Claire?"

"I don't know Jimbo, but it's fifteen minutes after our usual meeting time, and she's still not here – and we all know the Nuñez aren't the ones to be late. Now come on, or that Janeth woman will kill us for real!"

"But what if something happened to her? What if there are more of those Blood Goblins messing around? What if -"

"What if her parents decided to give her a lift to school today, and she's already waiting there? It's not like she said she'd be here today, we just kinda assumed she would be. Now for Deya's grace, can we just _go_?"

And not wasting another minute, Toby climbed on his bike saddle and took off, knowing that his companion would have no problems gaining on him. Jim blinked in surprise, but followed nevertheless, desperately trying to close his mind to the thoughts that had suddenly started to spring into it. Claire was most certainly safe and sound – and he was just being paranoid.

"Sorry," he said when he caught up with his friend. "Apparently, it's not so easy to switch to normal after all those days in the dark. But I'm working on it, trust me."

"What do you – mean – switch?" Toby stammered as he pedalled along the road. Good Troll, how much he wished he had his friends' physical condition.

"You know, over two weeks of constant vigilance, with dangers lurking from every corner, not to mention Gunmar the Black eventually imprisoning me," Jim sighed, manoeuvring between the trees. "I was doing well enough for the first three days, but then something cracked. I… I don't know, Tobes. It's just strange not to have to fret about surviving another day on my own, about finding food or avoiding all those creepy creatures that live down there. It's strange to see the sun. And it's hard to stop worrying."

Jim sighed again. He didn't want to upset Toby, but he needed him to understand. He needed him to give him more time.

"The time!" he shouted unexpectedly, and pulled out his phone to check the hour, miraculously avoiding crashing on a rock that appeared on his way on this very moment. His face brightened when he saw they hadn't missed their chance just yet.

"We can still make it," he stated absent-mindedly.

"Whatever you said – I did not hear – that! I can't hear a word in this –"

"I said we can still make it! Come on Tobes, hurry! Or we'll spend the rest of our lives in detention for nothing!"

He speeded on, while Toby stared at his back, trying to understand his partner's mood swings. There was nothing he wanted more than to facepalm at his behaviour, finding it the only accurate reaction to all the craziness he was witnessing; and he would, if not for one tiny detail. He couldn't ride without both of his hands on the handlebar.

So he snorted instead, praying that first, Jim would come to his senses sooner rather than later – and second, that Miss Janeth would not arrive at the classroom before them.

They had crossed the threshold exactly a minute before she did.

* * *

"I can't do this, Jim. I can't. I just – goodness gracious, you really should repair your Vespa," Toby laid his forehead on the desk, breathing heavily, completely unable to focus on anything their black-haired algebra teacher was saying.

"Give it a rest, will you?" Jim whispered carelessly, not bothering to look at his troubled classroom neighbour; unlike the other boy, he was doing his best to follow Miss Janeth's thinking process, aware of the fact that he could not afford any more backlog. "We've been here for almost ten minutes already, that's more than enough to recover after such a short ride. And what does my Vespa have to do with it?"

"Look, after all these years you should know that our bodies don't follow the same rules. Ten minutes is enough for you to rest, I'll need at least twice the time."

"Are you telling me you can wield an enormous troll Warhammer on a daily basis with no problem, yet you can't survive a few minutes on a bike?"

"The Warhammer is charmed, dude! It's troll magic we're talking about!"

"You still need your own muscles to swing it, don't you? And you were doing it for hours in the forge last night."

"One more explanation for my tiredness today!"

"Mr Domzalski, am I bothering you?" A harsh voice interrupted their talk, making Toby straighten up in a second, while Jim prayed quietly his friend would not make the matters worse for them.

"No, no! I mean, I was just asking about -"

"Domzalski!"

"Right, sorry! It won't happen again." The boy remained stiff until he was certain the teacher was once again devoted to the equation she'd been writing earlier; he leaned back in his chair, and murmured, "Gee, she's worse than Bullar. If someone told me to choose between algebra and the Darklands, I would take the latter for sure."

"And you can be sure you'd regret it," Jim muttered in response, glancing at his interlocutor and sending him a slightly pitiful smile. "Be nice to Janeth, there are more evil creatures walking around the world."

"Are there really?" Toby answered in a strained voice. "After everything we've seen so far, I'm ready to bet she's got a secret second life as well. Do you think she might be a changeling? That sounds like a good reason for firing her."

"Look, if she were one, we would all be dead by now. Calm down."

"Or maybe she's just keeping up appearances? Strickler had been teaching us too, and he's never been half as mean to us as she is."

"That's because _he_ was the one keeping up appearances. Also, he kind of stopped being nice after he'd discovered who the new Trollhunter was. Now, could you just focus on those exercises and let me do the same? You know I've got problems with that."

"Fine, fine. I still think you should repair the scooter."

"For trolls' sake, Tobes -"

"Mr Lake!" Miss Janeth raised her voice again, glaring at the boy with disgust. Jim wanted to bang his head against the desk but decided it would be better not to give the irritated woman more reasons for shouting at him – so instead of showing his own annoyance, he simply apologised, intending to get back to work immediately. He really didn't need more trouble.

There was something that kept bugging him however, no matter how much he tried to ignore it, forcefully dragging his scattered attention to his own notebook and pen instead. He fought it with all of his might, continually telling himself to stop overreacting and just focus on what he was supposed to be doing; but his endeavours were all doomed to fail.

Because Claire Nuñez was not there.

* * *

 _Author's note: A very unexpected story for a very unexpected series with which I very unexpectedly fell in love with. I guess that's what happens when you're hiking right after starting a new show. Well, no regrets here._

 _Anyway, as you probably know, this is my first approach to Trollhunters fanfiction (and I'm already leaving you on a cliffhanger?), so it's especially important for me that you share your opinions with me. There's not much romance there, but I promise you it will come and soon - for now, I'd love to know what you think of my writing for Toby and Jim._

 _I really hope to update the story regularly - once every two weeks, I hope - so stay tuned._

 _Also, this little work is dedicated to the amazing **FanWriter02** \- if you don't know her yet, please check her account out! She's already written a lot of great httyd stories, and some for Trollhunters as well._

 _I guess it's all for today._

 _Miss you already,  
Margaret_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two  
** **In which some things happen but it's still not enough to call it a plot**

* * *

She arrived at the class fifteen minutes late, an incident that had never occurred in all of her previous education. That obviously caused the whole class – Miss Janeth included – to stir with agitation, making it impossible for the girl to sneak in quietly and pretend that her lateness wasn't as much of a deal as it seemed to be in everyone else's eyes.

Before she'd come in, they all assumed she was either ill, or that she was excused from the lesson for some other valid reasons. When she stepped into the room, however, the group understood she was indeed late, and sadly, none of them bothered to hide the satisfaction they felt at the realization.

It was somehow nice to know that the Perfect Miss Nuñez wasn't so perfect after all.

Claire tried to ignore the curious looks everybody was giving her, and having mumbled an excuse, she almost ran to her place in the back. It took a lot of her good will not to turn on her heel and leave the wretched classroom for good – but she knew that she was still not rebellious enough to do _that_. Stealing the Killerhead Bridge, deceiving the Troll Tribunal, walking into the Darklands… those were the things she _could_ do; playing the drama queen at school was an entirely different level of foolishness.

She silently put her purse her lap, took out the necessary books and almost threw it on the floor.

"Hey." She heard someone whisper a moment later. She glanced to her right, and noticed Jim, who was grinning at her shyly. "Nice of you to show up."

 _What a dork._

"Not now, Jim," she cut him off mercilessly, struggling to understand what their teacher, who finally decided to stop glaring at her, was talking about.

"Hey, easy," the boy answered, trying to think of a way in which he could ease her mind at least a little. "It's not like I can afford much talking, either. I still haven't covered those topics I missed and… well, she's just started another one. The fourth, I think?"

"The fifth," Claire corrected him.

"How did you even manage to cover so much so quickly? I was gone for two weeks, not a year."

"Honestly, I feel like you covered more in the last fifteen minutes," the girl mumbled, shifting her gaze from her notebook to the teacher and the other way round. "Besides, didn't you say you _loved_ homework?"

"Oh, yeah, now that's funny."

"But seriously. This is insane."

"I know. Although, if that makes you feel any better, I for once have pretty good notes of my own, so I'll gladly share."

"Wait, you mean you were actually listening to her?"

"Yup. That is, I had been until TP started to share his opinions about Janeth being a Changeling – but then she just started reprimanding us and obviously stopped explaining anything."

Claire rolled her eyes but refrained from saying anything in response.

"Also, she spent about five minutes wondering on how it was possible for you not to show up in her class without any earlier information. She ended up asking each and every of us if we knew what had happened to you."

The girl jerked up her head in a reflex action and sent her interlocutor a shocked, anxious look.

"Now you're making this up," she pleaded quietly, hoping against hope that she had misunderstood his words.

"Just exaggerating." Jim's grin widened a little, while his glare was fixed on the notebook before him in a poor attempt of making himself look devoted to the lesson. "But she was surprised."

Claire groaned quietly.

"Why is it like this? You and Tobes come in late at least once a week and no one ever says a word. It happens to me once, and everyone is freaking out."

"That's the point. It's normal for us, and it's totally extraordinary for you."

"This is not how -"

"Guys! Quiet!" they were silenced by Toby, who suddenly decided to join – or better said, kill– the conversation that was going on between them. "The she-devil has already scolded us today, and she won't be any more understanding now! And you were supposed to be working, Jimbo!"

"Okay, okay," Jim waved his hand at his nervous friend and got back to scribbling, making an inward promise that he would not let himself lose his focus again. He was quite determined to do that, and seeing how dedicated to her own catching up Claire was, he believed the task would not be so difficult to fulfil after all.

Which obviously didn't mean he could help glancing at her every now and then, as if making sure she'd really made it to the lesson. Her absence had made him feel uncomfortable at least, especially with his acute imagination stubbornly suggesting the most pessimistic scenarios of her fate. Now she was there, right next to him, and he had to admit that the sight was simply relieving.

Claire peered sideways at him.

"Yes?" she asked innocently, making sure her voice would not be heard by anyone except them two. Her neighbour found himself blushing slightly when he realised his staring had been noticed, and that it was bad enough to make her respond with an actual question.

"Nothing," he muttered and fixed his sight on the whiteboard, and yet, the smile on his face didn't falter. "It's just good to know you're safe."

Claire raised both of her eyebrows at him, unable to understand why her friend would say such a thing. True, they were living a life of constant suspiciousness, ready to meet worst of enemies at every minute of their crazy, teenage existence, but she still couldn't find a reason why he'd assume that _she_ was in any particular danger that day. Angor Rot was gone, the Killerhead Bridge was too, and unlike the Trollhunter, she was still pretty convinced that Gunmar had stayed in the Darklands and thus wasn't a threat for the group. So why would he be worried?

Except of course, she had been late.

She still hadn't got rid of the unpleasant feeling that had been accompanying her ever since that morning when she realised that this once, she would not make it on time. She knew she wouldn't get away with it, not with her reputation of the most punctual girl in Arcadia Oaks High School. And in all honesty, Claire didn't even care about her good name so much – but it was not her belatedness that was a problem. It was the fact that it truly was the very first time it happened.

Jim was right when he diagnosed the causes of the flurry between their classmates. Everyone loved novelties.

She knew it was a trifle, a little thing of no importance, and somehow, she still couldn't get over it.

 _'Like being late is the end of the world',_ she mused angrily, absently following Miss Janeth's movements as the latter was covering the whiteboard with more and more figures, blind to the fact that hardly anyone in class was paying attention to what she was trying to explain. _'Worse things happened. Besides, I shouldn't even be here in the first place -'_

"Well, that's what I thought, too. Not that I'm not enjoying the company," Jim whispered unexpectedly, making her choke on her own saliva. She covered her mouth trying to calm down the cough that followed directly after. Jim frowned a little. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"What did you just say?" she hissed between the coughs.

"I said I don't understand why you're taking these classes. You passed algebra on the previous year, you weren't here during last semester, and... You know, I was just wondering why. I have been since the winter break, actually. Tobes even started to make bets."

"But why?"

"Because he's a nerd?"

"No, why would you talk about it all of the sudden? Are you mindreading now or what?"

The boy turned to her for the first time for almost a quarter and looked at her in disbelief.

' _Mindreading?'_

"Claire, you're mumbling."

"Mumbling?"

"Well, you know, speaking in a way that makes it impossible to understand and -"

"I know what mumbling is," his interlocutor bridled and tightened her grip on her pencil. "But _I_ don't mumble."

"Well, the facts prove something else." Against his better judgement, Jim let a grin appear on his face once more. Little did he know that it would only make the girl less eager to agree; just like the words he was going to voice next. "Funny, though. Most people mumble because they turn their voice down. You do it because you turn your thoughts up loud."

Claire gave him the coldest glare she could muster, now plunging the pencil into the desk; it broke, and she quickly turned away too look at the damage she'd caused.

"Anything else you'd like to add?" she answered edgily. She didn't mean to snap at him like that, and she didn't understand why his little jokes were affecting her so much – but they were, and as much as she regretted it, there wasn't much she could do about it.

In the corner of her eye she saw Jim slouch a bit. He definitely was taken aback, and honestly, how could she blame him?

She sighed.

She just really wanted to go home.

"No," her friend muttered under his breath a moment later. She wanted to turn to him, tell him she was sorry, and that he shouldn't take her annoyance too seriously; he didn't give her the time to do it, though, deciding to share one more thought. "I just wanted to say that you shouldn't care about it so much. I promise you, in an hour they won't even remember that you were late."

"Won't they?" she asked.

"No. Don't get me wrong, but there are more exciting things to do in high school than wondering why one Claire Nuñez didn't arrive on time for an algebra class she doesn't even have to take."

He glanced at her, and to her surprise, gave her another warm, reassuring smile.

Before Claire had managed to return it, his smile turned into a mischievous grin as Jim leaned towards her a little, and in a conspiratorial whisper, he added, "besides, at least you don't have to worry about any formal consequences. Janeth adores you too much to even think of giving you a detention. But just imagine how much trouble Steve will be in when he meets her after missing her lesson like that."

She rolled her eyes and got back to work.

* * *

The rest of the class passed in a perfect order, as both Jim and Claire resolved to make the most of the time they had left, and finally carried out their plans of staying focused on what Miss Janeth was telling them. The rest of the class weren't too eager to cause any problems, either, so except a little chiding now and then, even Miss Janeth didn't need to say more than the syllabus required.

The bell rang eventually, making the half asleep teenagers leap on their seats before hastily gathering their belongings and leaving the class at the highest speed they could allow. Jim was watching them in amusement while packing his own books; he didn't feel the need to rush. Not when his pretty neighbour didn't seem to be hurrying anywhere herself.

He zipped his bag and turned towards her.

"So, do you think you'll need those notes after all?" he asked lightly.

"I think I'll copy them from Darci. I'm kinda used to the way she makes them, so it will be easier for me to learn from them."

"Oh, right."

"I'm still impressed you've made any." Claire laughed for the first time this morning, and nudged him playfully in the arm. "Wouldn't that be like the first time ever?"

"Not exactly, but you're close."

"You're hopeless."

"Pretty much."

She laughed again and slung her purse over her shoulder. She glanced at Toby, who was waiting for them near the exit. "You two should go. I need to talk to Miss Janeth about a few other things than being late, so it will take a while. I'll catch up with you later."

Jim wanted to protest, but she didn't give him a chance. As soon as she finished the last sentence, she set off towards the teacher's desk, leaving the slightly confused boy behind her. He followed her with his sight, smiling sheepishly, and if it hadn't been for Toby, he probably would have stayed there until Claire would leave, too.

She had a point. He _was_ hopeless.

Only school didn't have much to do with that.

He felt a soft strike on his cheek when Toby, having lost his patience, threw a paper ball at him. He grabbed his back and made his way to the door, sending Claire one more smile she couldn't see. They still had a couple of classes coming, most of which all of them attended – and after that, they would all go to the Troll Market together, making their day as perfect as it could possibly be.

Why, if Claire knew that she wouldn't be going anywhere.

* * *

 _Author's note: And here comes the second chapter of this silly, unexpected story. Still not much is happening, but I hope it's enough to keep you interested._

 _I really didn't think I'd manage to share it so quickly, with the semester nearing to the end as much as **#For the Glory of Fandom** contest going on (if you haven't heard of it, just check the tag on tumblr!); but here it is, and it's not even particularly short._

 _I promise you there will be an actual plot in the next one._

 _Until next time, my friends!  
Love you, Margaret_


End file.
